


The Divine Don't Care for You

by MagitekUnit05953234



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bahamut is the worst, Darkfic, Depression, Gen, Heavy Angst, I'm sorry that Gladio sucks in this one, It's part of the AU, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, The ending of the game happens, oh god is there angst, stay safe guys like for real read these tags, the previous tag does not happen but is heavily considered, this isn't Omen but it's dark as hell so kinda, which is the reason for the major character death tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagitekUnit05953234/pseuds/MagitekUnit05953234
Summary: The first time Noctis personally receives a divine message, he is thirteen years old.





	The Divine Don't Care for You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "ravens" from Tumblr user raneam-o1's gothic prompt list.  
> This work deals with incredibly dark themes. If you are at all sensitive to themes of depression and suicide, do not read this fic.  
> If you need help with the aforementioned themes in your own life, please reach out to the people in your life who can help, such as therapists, counselors, and similar professionals, as well as your loved ones.  
> If you need it, the number for the American National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

I

The first time Noctis personally receives a divine message, he is thirteen years old. He is curled on the floor of his bathroom, waiting for the pain meds to kick in and dull the agony arcing down his spine and leg. He clutches the bottle of pills close to his chest, wondering how many? How many more? How many would it take?

It is then that a raven appears beside the window, fluttering down to rest beside Noctis’s head. Its eyes are flat and dead, its feathers shimmer with the colors of twilight, its talons click against the tile. It settles itself in Noctis’s line of sight, opens its beak, and speaks in a voice like rebar dragging across concrete. 

**_Not yet._ **

II

The second time Noctis receives a divine message, he is fourteen. He is on the ground, panting, blinking sweat out of his eyes. 

“Get up,” Gladiolus says. He’s slung his wooden training blade over his shoulder, and is looking down at Noctis with as much disdain as a seventeen year old can muster. “How are you supposed to protect your people if you can’t protect yourself?”

Noctis can’t get up. He tries, and his left leg gives out. 

“Get up!” Gladiolus reaches down, takes hold of Noctis’s arm, and yanks Noctis to a standing position. When Noctis has to cling to Gladiolus’s arm just to avoid falling over, Gladiolus levels a full-on glare at Noctis. “You’re weak.”

A white fox, ethereal and cold, giving off fog like a lake on a cold summer’s morning, laughs at Noctis from the far side of the training room. 

**_He’s right, you know._ **

Noctis doesn’t need a god to tell him that. 

III

The third time Noctis receives a divine message, he is fifteen years old. He is outside of his high school, alone as always, when a kid runs up to him and pats him on the shoulder. 

“Hey there, Prince Noctis! I’m Prompto, nice to meet you!”

Noctis knows this kid, in a vague sense. Noctis spoke once to him in middle school or something. When Noctis opens his mouth to reply, a movement in the corner of his eye makes him pause. 

A skeletal dog with green and grey moss clinging to its right foreleg hops to its feet and rasps out a declaration that makes Noctis’s blood run cold. 

**_It is meant to be._ **

No. Noctis won’t drop himself and his life into the gods’ reaching hands. He won’t follow their prophecy. 

“I can’t say the same,” Noctis turns so he doesn’t have to see the hopeful look shatter and fall from Prompto’s face. “Don’t talk to me.”

Prompto never tries to speak to Noctis again. They sit at opposite ends of the room in courses they share, and never see each other outside of that. Prompto is always alone.

After two years, Prompto disappears from school altogether. Noctis never finds out where he went. 

IV

The fourth time Noctis receives a divine message, he is seventeen years old. Ignis is pacing, back and forth and back and forth behind Noctis’s chair. He’s probably blowing off steam so he doesn’t yell in Noctis’s face. 

“I don’t understand why you won’t just go to your meetings,” Ignis’s voice shakes in that way that means he’s doing his best not to raise it. “You have  _ one thing _ to do every evening and it’s attend your damned meetings!”

“It doesn’t matter if I go anyway!” Noctis busies himself with organizing the papers on the desk he’s sat in, as if getting those in order will fix his disaster of a life. “I’m never going to be king anyway. It’ll be you or Amicitia or something. I’m just gonna die and that’ll be that. I don't think the gods want me to know the state of the fucking agricultural economy outside the Wall or some shit.”

“Don't talk about that!” Ignis grabs the end of Noctis’s chair and pulls, rolling it out from under the desk and spinning it so Noctis has to face his incensed advisor. “Stop talking as if we’re all just biting our nails waiting for the gods to take you! We don’t want that!  _ I _ don’t want that!”

“Well it doesn’t matter what you want, they’ll do whatever the hell they please so you need to get used to it,” Noctis jerks his head to the side to avoid Ignis’s gaze, and instead makes eye contact with a cat wreathed in shadows, its outline indistinct and constantly shifting. The only thing solid about it are its bright amber eyes.

**_It isn’t long now._ **

Noctis hopes. By the gods, he hopes. 

V

The fifth time Noctis receives a divine message, he is twenty years old. He stands in the burning wreckage of his home with his father's ring carving a chasm into his arm. The Crystal pulses with power, cold and almost inviting. 

All Noctis has to do is step into the Light, and let himself be molded into whatever righteous holy  _ thing _ can stop the end of the world. It probably won’t be Noctis anymore, but he doesn’t think he minds. He’s pretty tired of being Noctis. 

**_Enter into Reflection, Chosen King. It is ordained._ **

Noctis places his hand on the Crystal and closes his eyes. 

VI

The sixth time Noctis receives a divine message, he is thirty years old and the world has been in darkness for a decade. Noctis is alone, as he has always been.

The throne is as good a place to die as any, so Noctis settles in and waits to be run through. He barely keeps his grip on his father's sword as Noctis’s ancestors take what they must from him. 

**_It is time,_ ** his father says from behind that hellish armor.

“I know,” Noctis presents the grip of the blade to the specter. “End this. Please.”

**_I’m sorry, my son._ **

“Don't be,” Noctis smiles. He can’t remember the last time he had done so. “This isn't sacrifice. It’s mercy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter [@compromisedunit](https://mobile.twitter.com/compromisedunit)!


End file.
